


Ravens Hate Foxes

by FindYourAnchor (DustyHalo)



Series: Foxverse (Sterek Bingo 2019) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bird Attack, Fox!Stiles, M/M, Scent Marking, Shirtless cuddling, Stiles Stilinski is Seventeen Years Old, Stiles Stilinski's Scent, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 09:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyHalo/pseuds/FindYourAnchor
Summary: Ever since the Nogitsune Stiles has been different. Everyone smells it on him. A scent that’s more fox than human, but it’s Derek that has to step in to do something when an unkindness of ravens figures out what Stiles has become.





	Ravens Hate Foxes

**Author's Note:**

> This will not be so much a fully fleshed out series as random points in Stiles' and Derek's relationship for this mini verse I'm writing for.  
> Written for Sterek Bingo 2019  
> Themes: Ravens and Foxes

Derek collapsed on his couch. He'd just gotten home from dropping Cora off at the airport. He'd planned to go with her but after the Nogitsune and Allison’s death and Stiles almost dying, he didn't feel right leaving.

Derek sat up and turned towards the window with the alarm calls of a flock of birds. He could see them outside the window and beyond the balcony as they descended from the sky.

He could tell from their massive black wings and beaks curved like Bowie knives that they were ravens. From the flurry of commotion he assumed they were mobbing some kind of predator.

Derek went completely still when he thought he heard a scream. One that was distinctly human and not the cry of a wild coyote or even an unfortunate dog as he’d originally suspected.

When Derek focused his hearing the beating of wings thundered in his ears. The sound broken only by the piercing kraa-kraa-kraa of the birds but then there it was once again. A strangled cry. A human shouting for help. He recognized his name being called, and then the familiarity of the voice registered. Stiles. It was Stiles.

Derek bolted up from the couch and ran for the door. He ended up leaving it open as he hurried for the stairwell. At first taking the steps two at a time before becoming frustrated and swinging down to lower levels by using the railings as handgrips and footholds.

Stiles was curled up in a ball when Derek finally got outside. His hands pressed tight to his face to protect his eyes as the ravens swarmed over him, pecking at what sensitive areas they could get to.

The ravens scattered, startled by the sudden booming howl that erupted from Derek. They didn't go far though. Just circled overhead.

Derek shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over Stiles’s head and shoulders when he got close enough. The birds would only be startled off for so long and his jacket would offer far more protection than trying to shelter Stiles with his hands alone would.

He could smell the musky scent of fox now that he was closer. Even though the Nogitsune was gone the scent of a fox clung to Stiles now. Each of them had noticed it, but none of them had said anything. Stiles had been through so much already and none of them knew how to tell him that the fox spirit had left something behind. Something that made him not quite human. Something that was changing him.

Stiles made a choked sound and fumbled out a hand to wrap in Derek’s shirt. There was blood on his skin. Scratches and gouges on his fingers and the backs of his hands he'd earned from trying to fend the birds off.

Derek tugged Stiles to his feet. One arm keeping him tucked close to his side while the other kept his head down.

The ravens gave off shrill cries overhead, circling and then diving in towards Stiles as Derek guided him towards the entrance of the building. They veered off course with a hasty flapping of wings when Derek growled and bared his fangs. A few managed to scrape their talons across the jacket or peck at the leather before being scared off again.

Once they were safely inside the building Derek let Stiles go and slid the jacket off him.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked. His hands gripping Stiles’s shoulders gently as he looked him over.

“No?” Stiles took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “A bunch of birds just tried to murder me.”

Stiles's hands seemed to have taken the most damage. Though a few cuts and spots of blood marred Stiles’s face and ears. One nick just below his left eye dripped a line of blood down his cheek. A little higher and Stiles would have lost one of those beautiful amber colored eyes of his.

When Derek was a child he'd happened upon the carcass of a wild fox that had been killed by some kind of birds. Either crows or ravens he’d guessed from the feathers he’d found lying near the body.

The fox’s fur had been matted with blood and chunks of flesh had been torn from it as the birds had fed on it after it had fallen, or maybe while it was still alive.

It was its eyes Derek remembered most vividly though. Vacant empty holes in its head that had haunted his dreams that night. He’d had nightmares about birds pecking out his own eyes until his mother had explained to him that ravens hated foxes, but held respect for wolves.

Derek didn't want to think what would have happened to Stiles if he hadn't returned home when he had. He didn't want to think of finding Stiles pecked to death outside his building. Didn't want to think of bloody holes in Stiles flesh or empty eye sockets picked clean but he can't shake off the image.

Derek could hear the frantic thump of Stiles’s heart. He was still terrified, and Derek couldn’t blame him. It would have been an awful way to die.

They took the elevator back up to Derek's floor. Stiles was silent by Derek’s side and when Derek glanced over at him he was cradling the bloodiest of his hands against his chest.

“There’s a first aid kit under the bathroom sink,” Derek offered.

Stiles dropped his hand as he turned towards Derek, accidentally smacking it up against the metal rail along the back of the elevator. His face taking on a pinched expression as he held back a shout of pain. Derek still heard the muffled cry even when it was trapped behind Stile’s lips.

Derek caught his breath as the bloody marks on Stiles fingers began to close up. “Stiles, your hands.”

Stiles held his hands up in front of him. He breathed shakily as he watched the cuts in his flesh heal. When the cuts in his skin were gone he looked to Derek with panicked eyes. “What the hell is wrong with me now?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Derek replied. “You’re just different.”

Stiles kept staring at his open palms. “Because of the Nogitsune?”

“Yes.” Derek wished he didn’t have to be the one to have said it. It should have been Scott, or maybe Lydia. Hell even his cousin Malia would have been a better choice than Derek. Derek wasn’t even part of Stiles pack. Not really.

Derek pressed a hand to Stiles’s back to get him moving forward when the elevator doors opened. Then steered him through the open door of his loft when they reached it before sliding the door closed.

Stiles headed silently in the direction of the bathroom. Presumably to clean the blood from his hands and face.

Not knowing what else to do with himself Derek headed into the kitchen to make tea. It was the kind of thing his mother would have done, and Derek tended to default to his memories of his mother’s habits when he was at a loss for what to do.

He heard the shower start up a moment later while he was filling the tea kettle with water. He paused what he was doing and tried to remember if there were clean towels in the bathroom. He vaguely remembered there being some in the small linen closet and he figured Stiles could find them without his help.

Stiles came back out by the time the tea was ready. His hair still damp since he’d only toweled it dry and dressed in the same clothes as before since Derek hadn’t thought to offer him any different.

Derek held out a mug to him. “It’s chamomile,” he said lamely.

Stiles accepted the mug of tea in hands that were still shaking, but clean and without gouges or scratches on them. “Thank you.”

Derek followed after Stiles as he walked slowly over to the couch. He looked contemplative in a distracted sort of way. As if he were having trouble processing everything.

Stiles sipped at the tea as his sat down on the couch. He was staring straight ahead but Derek got the sense he wasn’t actually seeing anything.

A tapping sound came from the window. The distinct sound of a beak hitting up against reinforced glass.

The mug between Stiles’s fingers slipped from his grasp. It shattered audibly in the stillness of the large room. The tea spreading over the floor, making the green shards of glass look like islands in a brown lake.

“Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Derek assured, already kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of glass. “It’s just a cup.”

Derek watched Stiles from the corner of his eye as the younger man hid his face in his hands. He left him sitting on the couch while he went into the kitchen area to throw away the glass and grab a dish towel to mop up the spilled tea with.

When he returned he found Stiles just as he left him. With his head in his hands and a tremor running through him. The tapping on the glass had doubled. Another raven having joined the first.

Stiles looked up at Derek when he rested a hand on Stiles’s shoulder.

“You're safe here Stiles. They can't get in.”

Stiles didn't look or smell wholly convinced, but he nodded anyway.

Derek made quick work of cleaning up the tea. It was when he was setting the dish towel down on the coffee table that Stiles finally spoke.

“They've been following me for awhile, “Stiles said shakily. “The ravens. For days now.”

Derek nodded at that. “Ravens hate foxes, but seem to have a particular dislike for the supernatural variety.” He leaned in closer so Stiles’s scent filled his nose. “And you definitely smell like a fox.”

Stiles’s face scrunched up with the information. His mouth tight at the corners as if he'd just tasted something sour.

“Don't worry. It's not bad.” Derek smiled. Held back a laugh. “A human wouldn't even notice it.”

“Just my luck I spend most of my time around werewolves then,” Stiles joked but his voice cracked and he blinked too quickly.

“It’s going to be okay Stiles.”

“Is it?” Stiles met Derek’s eyes then looked over to the window where several more ravens had congregated out on the balcony. “Because I’m not seeing an upside.”

Derek stared pointedly at Stiles’s hands. “None at all?”

Stiles didn't respond to the question and instead he asked, “If they hate foxes so much why haven’t they gone after Kira?”

“Either she instinctively hides what she is from them, or…” He tilted his head as he trailed off.

“Or?” Stiles prompted.

“Or she smells like Scott and his scent confuses them.”

“Oh,” Stiles said simply then seemed to actually consider what Derek was saying. “Oh. _Oh_.”

Derek couldn't help smiling with the face Stiles made on fully understanding what he'd just been told.

The ravens were losing interest in pecking at the window but they still hadn't flown away. They just sat out on the balcony as if waiting for an opportunity to present itself to strike.

“So if I smell like you they'll leave me alone then?”

“Probably,” Derek said hesitantly. “But wouldn’t you be more comfortable with Scott helping you?”

Derek would never say it out loud but _he’d_ be more comfortable if Stiles chose Scott over him. Stiles was seventeen. Only a year older than Derek had been when he’d first met Kate. And that thought alone made his stomach drop.

“He’s got his hands full right now with Liam.”

Derek sighed. He’d almost forgotten Scott had, rather accidentally, added to his pack’s numbers.

Stiles crossed his arms in front of him. His fingers tapped against his upper arm in a nervous rhythm. “Does it have to be through sex?”

“No,” Derek said quickly. “Though some form of skin to skin contact does work best.”

“So, what?” Stiles blinked at him. “Like naked cuddling.”

Derek huffed a startled laugh. Stiles did really have the worst sense of humor sometimes. “You can keep your pants on Stiles.”

Stiles managed a smile. Derek’s laugh seeming to draw out the more playful side of his personality.

“And you would probably be safer spending the night.”

“So we’re basically just going to have a shirtless sleepover and cuddle in bed for eight hours?”

“Basically.”

“Okay.” Stiles took a deep breath. “I can work with that.”

“You should call your dad,” Derek suggested.

“I'll just…text.”

“Have you eaten?” Derek asked as Stiles typed out a message on his phone.

“No.” Stiles gave a shake of his head.

“Frozen pizza okay?”

Stiles grinned. “As long as you cook it first.”

Derek looked back at him with a fake laugh but a genuine smile.

“Yeah, pizza’s fine,” Stiles said with a small smile of his own. “Thanks.”

Derek made them dinner and they watched the first Lord of the Rings DVD on Derek’s computer while they ate because Derek didn’t own an actual TV. Stiles quoting the best lines like he’d seen the movie on repeat at least five times. He probably had.

When the movie ended Derek lent Stiles some sweatpants to wear to bed since they were the only thing he had that wouldn't fall off Stiles’s narrow hips. He also lent him an extra toothbrush that Cora had never gotten around to using since she’d gone out and bought her own not realizing he’d gotten it for her.

Derek did his best not to look in Stiles direction when he stripped out of his shirt to get into bed. Just the knowledge that Stiles was taking his shirt off only a short distance from him was enough to make him feel hot and uneasy.

Stiles was all the way on the other side of the bed, leaving a gulf between them once Derek was under the blankets himself.

“This isn’t going to work if you’re lying all the way over there.”

Stiles shifted closer, albeit reluctantly. Derek could understand the hesitation. They’d touched each other before, sure, but not often and definitely not in any way that could be considered intimate. They’d never even hugged before, and now they were sharing a bed.

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles to hold him close. His bare back resting up against Derek’s chest.

“Yeah. Okay.” Stiles shifted slightly before settling. “This really isn't so bad.”

Derek closed his eyes, relaxing into the warmth of Stiles curled against him. There was actually something comforting about Stiles being there. At least until he started talking.

“Hey Derek,” Stiles whispered.

“Hm?” Derek didn’t open his eyes. “What?”

“You awake?”

“Mmhm.”

“How long are we going to have to do this?” Stiles was tense in Derek’s arms. “I mean… Your scent isn’t going to stay on me for days at a time. So we’re going to have to keep doing this right? How’s that going to work exactly?”

“It’ll just be until you learn to conceal what you are. We’ll figure out the details tomorrow,” Derek mumbled sleepily.

“I’m going to need my pillow.”

“What?”

“I have a hard time sleeping without my pillow.”

“I've noticed,” Derek muttered.

“I'm going to text Scott.” Stiles pulled away to retrieve his phone from the nightstand where he'd placed it earlier. “See if he can bring me a few things.”

“It's after ten.”

“He'll be up.”

Derek sighed and watched Stiles type out a quick message. A few minutes later however he was leaving the bed to answer his phone.

“Scott?”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You texted me you were having a cuddle party with Derek Hale and to bring you your pillow,” Scott exclaimed over the phone. “I thought it may be code for, help me I’m about to be murdered or something.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“So you’re really staying the night at Derek's?”

“Yes.”

There was a long pause on Scott’s side of the conversation. When he did speak again he sounded utterly confused. “Why are you staying with Derek?”

“Because there’s an army of ravens outside that want to rip me apart,” Stiles’s voice sounded agitated.

“Because…because of the fox thing?” Scott at least had the dignity to sound guilty.

“Yeah, because I smell like a fox. Thanks for the warning.” Stiles sighed. “Look, just, sneak in through my window and grab my pillow.” Stiles added almost as an afterthought, “And my laptop. Oh and some pajamas. Maybe some other clothes. And my school bag. And my phone charger.”

“Why would I sneak in through your window?”

“Because my dad thinks I’m staying with you,” Stiles explained in a softer voice. Not that it made much difference to Derek’s ears.

“You lied to your dad?”

Derek tried to block out the conversation after that. He dozed while Stiles talked. He wasn’t surprised Stiles had lied about where he was or what he’d be doing. He probably wasn’t eager to explain the situation to his father and Derek certainly wasn’t keen on being arrested or even shot.

Stiles finished his call and the mattress shifted as he sat down on the bed next to Derek.

“Is this really okay?” Stiles asked and Derek cracked an eye open to look at him and then the other while he spoke. “I mean I didn’t even really ask you if you’d help I just assumed you would.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Derek answered after a long pause.

“That’s not the same thing as being okay with all of this.”

“It’s fine Stiles.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

After a few minutes of dead silence Stiles talked while they waited. Mostly about what was going on with the pack. About Scott’s new beta, Liam, and how Stiles wasn’t too sure about him. About Malia breaking up with him a few weeks ago. Even about when he first started feeling there was something different about him.

Derek offered a question here or there to keep Stiles talking. But mostly he just listened.

Stiles rose from the bed to answer the door when a heavy knock sounded. Only it wasn't Scott on the other side of the door. It was Stiles's father holding a duffle bag and a pillow while looking less than pleased.

“Dad…”

“You going to tell me why I caught Scott crawling in through your window?” Stiles’s father looked beyond Stiles to Derek. “And what's really going on here?”

“Well, uh…” Stiles faltered, probably realizing how this all looked.

Stiles’s father glanced once more over to Derek sitting shirtless on the bed before looking back to Stiles as he asked, “Should I have brought you protection?”

Stiles tensed visibly. “Like what? Your gun?”

“Like a box of condoms.”

Stiles made a mortified sound that would have been humorous if the implication of the statement didn't involve statutory rape. Stiles was seventeen.

“Ravens are attacking him because he smells like a fox…” It sounded ridiculous even to Derek's ears. He’s surprised officer Stilinski didn’t shoot him on the spot.

“A fox?”

“The Nogitsune changed me. We’re…” Stiles glanced at Derek as he fumbled for an explanation. “Its a…a scent transference thing…”

Stiles’s father made a face like that was somehow worse than if Derek had been sleeping with his underage son.

“So you're a fox now?”

Stiles just nodded but Derek could smell the spike in anxiety. It was kind of like coming out he supposed. Though actually coming out wasn't something Stiles had ever seemed too shy about. It was probably well known to everyone in Beacon Hills by this point that Stiles was bisexual, and even more clear that he held no shame about that fact.

Stiles’s father sighed. He looked as if he'd just reached a whole new level of exhaustion even he didn't think was possible.

Stiles took the duffle bag and what Derek assumed to be the pillow he’d heard so much about when his father held them out.

“I suppose it's no worse than a werewolf,” Stiles’s father said as Stiles set the duffle bag and pillow aside for the time being. “You're okay though, right?”

Stiles nodded again. “Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine.”

Derek got the sense Stiles was just saying that to keep his dad from worrying. His father must have suspected the same because the next moment he was pulling Stiles into a hug. Stiles hugged him back. More tightly than he probably would have if circumstances were different.

“You call me if you need anything else, alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks dad.”

Stiles's father gave a nod to Derek, and Derek returned the gesture. A kind of silent communication passing between them that he was trusting Derek with something precious to him.

Stiles slid the door closed and latched it after his father left. He set the duffle bag on the floor next to the couch then crossed the room to climb back onto the bed with Derek. After a moment of getting his pillow situated he shifted closer until he was pressed up against Derek again. He seemed to actually relax when Derek wrapped his arm around him this time.

Derek closed his eyes. Reminded himself that he wasn’t technically crossing any sexual or legal lines. “Goodnight Stiles.”

“Night Derek.”


End file.
